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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114719">Wrapped Up In Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Rowe/pseuds/Kat_Rowe'>Kat_Rowe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Cold Weather, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Even Aziraphale's Customers Ship It, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Other, Public Display of Affection, Relationship Discussions, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vulnerable Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:21:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Rowe/pseuds/Kat_Rowe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crowley shows up at the bookshop during a record cold snap, half-unconscious and barely coherent with the effects of torpor, Aziraphale does his best to help him get back to a comfortable temperature. </p>
<p>Cuddling with his favorite lanky redhead becomes cuddling with a rather large snake and, for the first time in their friendship, Crowley is comfortable remaining in snake form around his angel. </p>
<p>Their relationships is discussed, some past regrets are laid aside, company is enjoyed, and a bookstore customer is rendered first terrified and then delighted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wrapped Up In Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Note:</b> The record low in London occurred in January 1962 and was -16.1° Celsius (3° Fahrenheit). Super cold weather of the sort that occurs in the fic is rare in Great Britain, but it does happen. And, since it is so rare, I decided that it was fair to assume that it would blindside Crowley when it <i>did</i> hit out of nowhere. </p>
<p>Today's lovely beta has been <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgaine2005">morgaine2005</a> who enabled my "I wonder if Crowley goes into torpor" plotbunny, has spent a lot of time lately listening to my mad ramblings, and who caught quite a few minor issues in this fic. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bookshop was far too quiet. Sighing, Aziraphale closed the book he’d been trying to read and set it down, laying aside his blanket and climbing to his feet. He felt ridiculous, missing Crowley after only a few days. After all, they’d been slipping in and out of each other’s lives for thousands of years, and sometimes wouldn’t cross paths for a century or more. Now that they were together, though, half a dozen days seemed like far too long. Even his brief book-buying trip last month had felt like an extended separation. </p>
<p>Not that he blamed Crowley for taking a nap during the worst cold snap London had suffered in decades, if not longer. Still Aziraphale couldn’t prevent himself from feeling a <em> little </em>lonesome. Maybe he should visit the flat, crawl under all those warm blankets and snuggle close, just close his eyes and relax next to Crowley until he woke. Then again, Crowley tended to flail quite a bit when awakened unexpectedly, so maybe a surprise visit wasn’t the best of ideas. Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood for a broken nose, even if it could be easily fixed. Besides, meteorologists were predicting that the cold would only last another day or two. Aziraphale could wait that long. Then, together, they could make up for lost time. </p>
<p>How to keep himself busy during the last few days of Crowley’s absence, though? He’d already rearranged the bookshop several times, and visited St James’s Park, although the cold had sent him scurrying back to the bookshop after five minutes. Baking, perhaps? He could prepare something for Crowley’s next visit. A devil’s food cake, maybe? But no. While the name was nicely teasing, Crowley was very particular about what sweets he was willing to eat. No point making a whole cake as a joke and letting most of it go to waste. Now, apple tarts wouldn’t be too sweet for Crowley’s taste. And Crowley, smart-arse that he was, always claimed that he never said no to an offered apple.</p>
<p>Smiling to himself, he headed upstairs and into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for his apron. There was something oddly soothing in making food, especially food he intended to share. Aziraphale was surprised he hadn’t thought to take up the hobby before. He was up to his wrists in flour and butter when he heard a loud thump on the stairs. Frowning, he miracled his hands clean and hurried out of the kitchen, gasping as he took in the slim, black-clad figure sprawled facedown across several steps. </p>
<p>“Crowley?” Quickly moving to his side, Aziraphale caught hold of his shoulders and hauled him to his feet, checking him over for signs of injury. He needed to get him somewhere safe, figure out what had happened. “Here, let’s get you upstairs.” </p>
<p>“Th’ks,” Crowley slurred, eyes glazed and unfocused.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, my love?” Aziraphale asked, ready to catch him if he stumbled. </p>
<p>“C… cold.” </p>
<p>“You’re cold? Well, yes, I’m sure you are. It’s brutal out there,” he said, reaching to support Crowley and helping him upstairs. “Are you okay? Are you injured?” </p>
<p>“Nuh. ‘sss truh… t… torp’r.”</p>
<p>Eyes widening, Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him into the bedroom. “You’re going into <em> torpor</em>? I didn’t realize the cold affected you so severely, darling. I’d always assumed you just generally disliked it.” </p>
<p>“Haaaate ‘t. Tuh… too c… cold. Din’t know… h… how cold. M’fine. Weak,” he explained brokenly as Aziraphale started stripping off his clothes. “Nuh… rssst.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t be out in this weather if this is what happens, Crowley. Your skin feels like ice,” he chided, turning down the blankets. “But don’t worry, we’ll get you warmed up. In you go.” </p>
<p>Nodding weakly, he slid clumsily under the covers and let Aziraphale pull them up to his chin. “C’mere?” he requested, clumsily extending both arms to Aziraphale. </p>
<p>“If you’d like, but let me start a fire first.”</p>
<p>“New frrpl’sss?” Crowley groaned, squinting.</p>
<p>“Quite new. I’ve had it all of five minutes, my dear,” he chuckled, moving to the hearth and pulling a log from the basket next to it. “Miracled it up to help you get warm faster. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it before. A fireplace adds such a cozy air to a room. Just don’t tell DEFRA that this one uses real wood,” he added, hoping to get at least a grin from Crowley over his lawlessness. </p>
<p>No luck, though. He just grunted, dropping his head onto the pillow and going still. Aziraphale hurried back to the bedside, miracling the fire into being instead of building it the traditional way. It had been years since he started a wood fire manually; figuring it out again would have taken too long. Besides, he’d already needed a miracle to keep the wood from smoking, so no point in <em> not </em> resurrecting two birds with one miracle. Kneeling next to the bed, he lifted a hand to lightly stroke Crowley’s hair, anxiously studying his face for signs that this was more than simply an extreme metabolic slowdown.</p>
<p>“Heeey,” Crowley whispered, smiling wearily. </p>
<p>“You don’t look very good, dear. You’re <em> sure </em> this state isn’t dangerous?”</p>
<p>“’M fine.” </p>
<p>“Has this happened before?” Aziraphale asked, removing his jacket and bow-tie without taking his eyes from Crowley. </p>
<p>“‘Mmm. L...lil iccce… age. N… not since then,” he finally managed, although it looked like he was starting to have a much harder time staying alert and responsive than he had even a few moments ago. </p>
<p>Crowley’s body was doing everything it could to shut down as far as was safely possible, and, of course, he was fighting against it. The effort must have been exhausting, even more enervating than the torpor itself, so Aziraphale didn’t try to force him to talk or even respond again.  </p>
<p>“We’ll have you right as rain before you know it. It’s supposed to start getting warmer soon and, in the meantime, you’ll just have to stay here.” Stripping down to his underpants, he circled the bed, sliding under the blankets and opening his arms. “That’s right,” Aziraphale soothed as Crowley squirmed up against his chest, gently wrapping his arms around his love’s bony body. “I’ll keep you warm. Just rest until this passes.”</p>
<p>“Mmm,” he mumbled, pressing close. </p>
<p>The poor man’s normally-heated skin was horribly clammy. If he’d been human, the fact that he wasn’t shaking would have been an alarming sign. But this was Crowley. His body seemed never to have learned little thermoregulatory tricks like using muscle-rigors to create extra heat. Aggravating <em> that </em> was the fact that he constantly gave off almost as much heat as he generated for himself and absorbed from his surroundings. That was a wonderful trick in hot weather and had been especially convenient during his time in the Middle East and Mediterranean. But it was terribly uncomfortable in more northerly climates, especially during severe cold snaps like this one. </p>
<p>Aziraphale jumped a little at the feel of cold toes against his ankles, but obediently parted his legs a bit so Crowley could warm his feet between his calves. His nose was freezing, too, as he pressed his face into Aziraphale’s throat, and the hands splayed against his back were frigid, as well. Poor, dear Crowley. </p>
<p>Aziraphale brought his wings into existence under the blankets, draping one over his love’s body for added warmth and insulation, and Crowley moaned softly, mumbling what was probably some kind of thanks.</p>
<p>“Hush, my love,” Aziraphale soothed. “Just rest. You’ll be feeling better before you know it.” </p>
<p>“H… haaaate this,” Crowley managed to announce, which was quite the accomplishment when he had his face so deeply buried in feathers that Aziraphale could feel his cold nose against his wing’s skin.</p>
<p>“I know you do, my love,” Aziraphale soothed, well aware of how much Crowley resented being forced into any state approaching real vulnerability. “But I’m right here, and I’ll stay with you until you’re better.”</p>
<p>A soft grunt of acknowledgement was the only answer Crowley gave before lapsing into a state that wasn’t quite sleep, but definitely bore no relationship to wakefulness. It wasn’t the first time Crowley had been unconscious in this bed, but it would never cease to be gratifying: how easily he always managed to relax in Aziraphale’s arms, even when thousands of years of habit, and all his instincts, were struggling to keep Crowley vigilant.</p>
<p>Smiling to himself, the angel tenderly stroked that fiery hair, quietly ordering, “Rest and dream, my dear, of whatever you like best.”</p>
<p>Crowley gave a happy sigh at that, wrapping both arms awkwardly around Aziraphale’s wing and shifting position just slightly underneath it. “M’angel.”</p>
<p>Well, if <em> that </em> wasn’t enough to make a man smug…</p>
<p>Chuckling and closing his eyes, he let his mind drift, basking in his friend’s proximity and, when Crowley started feeling warmer against and under him, Aziraphale let his reverie turn to sleep. </p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>He woke to feel… nothing. Crowley’s body was no longer pressed against his. Confused, and a little worried, he opened his eyes, yelping as he took in the rather large snake curled up under his outstretched wing, staring intently at him. His shock only lasted for a moment before the snake lifted its head and gave him an amused look, watching the angel through beautiful yellow eyes.</p>
<p>Smiling at his own foolishness in being startled for even a few seconds, Aziraphale reached out and shyly ran one finger over surprisingly soft and yielding scales. He’d never actually touched Crowley while he was in this form before but, given how much everything else had changed between them recently, it no longer seemed impertinent, or like it might be unwelcomed.</p>
<p>“Oh, good! You feel much warmer now, Crowley dear. I’m so glad. But what are you doing? I mean, like this,” Aziraphale clarified, continuing to stroke his scaly back.</p>
<p>“Sssmaller body needsss lessss heat to get warm,” he hissed. “You cover me better like thisss.”</p>
<p>He blinked in surprise at the words, then shook his head, yet again, at his own foolishness. If Crowley had been unable to talk in his snake form, he could never have Tempted Eve. </p>
<p>“Well, it’s obviously working, my dear, but you still feel a bit cooler than you do in your human form. Is that normal?” he asked, fingers still lightly caressing Crowley’s muscular body.</p>
<p>“No. Ssstill a bit cold.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I see. Well, why don’t you come curl up on my chest?” he suggested, rolling onto his back and patting it. </p>
<p>“Thought you’d never assssk,” he answered, slithering out from under Aziraphale’s wing and curling himself on the angel’s chest. </p>
<p>He wasn’t nearly as large as he’d been in Eden, but he was still fairly long, and shockingly heavy when he was coiled into such a small pile.</p>
<p>“Dear, that’s a bit uncomfortable,” he murmured. “Could you… distribute your weight more widely?” </p>
<p>“Ssssorry. Never done thisss before,” Crowley answered, uncoiling and sliding off Aziraphale’s body, settling down next to him again.</p>
<p>“Oh, no! You don’t have to go!” Aziraphale protested, sitting up. “It was just a bit too much weight all concentrated into such a small area.” Extending an arm, he suggested, “Here, why don’t you sit across my shoulders instead? That should be better.”</p>
<p>Crowley hesitated for a moment, then slithered up Aziraphale’s arm, looping himself around the angel’s bicep a few times, then coiling around his neck and letting his head come to rest on the far shoulder. </p>
<p>“Better, angel?” </p>
<p>“Oh, much better. Thank you, my dear. Are you comfortable?”</p>
<p>“Very. ‘sss niccce.” </p>
<p>“Warm enough?” Aziraphale asked, lifting a hand to lightly stroke the top of his head.</p>
<p>“Mhmm. Feelsss amazzzzing.” </p>
<p>The angel laughed softly at that, willing his wings out of existence. “You always have enjoyed my bare skin quite shamelessly. And this way you can absorb more warmth. Mind if I put my trousers back on?” </p>
<p>“Nyah. Go for it.”</p>
<p> Aziraphale bent to pull on his trousers, wobbling a little from the extra weight around his shoulders, but managing without real incident. “There we are,” he said, beaming. Crowley’s firm bulk was warm against Aziraphale’s skin, and there was something beautifully cozy about the pressure of those coils draping heavily around his body.</p>
<p>“How’s that, dear?”</p>
<p>“Good. You’re comfy, angel.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you think so, dear,” Aziraphale answered, picking up a dressing gown and miracling the sleeves and neck to fit comfortably over Crowley’s body before shrugging it on. “How’s that?” he asked. “Not too tight?”</p>
<p>“No. ‘sss good,” the snake answered, maneuvering his head out from under the dressing gown and laying it on the angel’s shoulder above the fabric, his tongue flicking out and tickling Aziraphale’s cheek. </p>
<p>“I’m glad you think so. Hungry?” he asked, trying not to squirm at the ticklish sensation.</p>
<p>“Nyg. I’m too cold to want food.” </p>
<p>Aziraphale nodded his understanding and belted the dressing gown, smiling to himself over the fact that he was having a friendly conversation with a snake. Or, at least, with a snake-shaped person. Not that it was odd in itself, but Crowley’s English was surprisingly coherent given the vocal equipment he must be working with. Still, a shapeshifter could have any vocal cords he wanted. Really, the strangest thing was that they’d never done this before. Clearly this was a form Crowley was relatively comfortable in, so why hadn’t he shared it with Aziraphale until now? </p>
<p>“Is it easier to stay warm like this, love?” he asked, lifting a finger and rubbing it lightly against Crowley’s cheek. “More of your skin touching more of mine?”</p>
<p>“And the gown covering usss,” Crowley agreed, nuzzling his finger. “You sspoil me, angel.”</p>
<p>“I certainly try to,” he chuckled, walking into the kitchen and reaching for the tea kettle. “Would you like some tea? Can you even drink it like this?”</p>
<p>“I’d prefer sssomething sstronger.” </p>
<p>Snorting softly, Aziraphale told him, “I’m not sure I care to find out what happens when the boa constrictor wrapped around my throat has too much to drink, dear.”</p>
<p>“Oi! I’m not a <em> boa conssstrictor!</em>” Crowley protested, lifting his head and glaring. Or, at least, staring very intently, even for a snake. Baring his fangs, he added, “I have venom!” </p>
<p>“I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t take you at your word, my dear. Your bark’s always been worse than your bite. Or should I say your hiss?” he teased. </p>
<p>“Don’t make me prove it, angel,” he ‘warned’ quietly, showing his fangs again.</p>
<p>“Please, if I know you, your so-called ‘venom’ is nothing but six thousand years worth of accumulated alcohol,” Aziraphale tutted fondly, carefully scooping tea leaves into a strainer. “And I may be the only creature in existence that’s <em> ever </em> been able to come close to matching you drink for drink. Something tells me that being bitten by <em> you</em>, my dear, would result in nothing but a pleasant buzz.” </p>
<p>“Jusss like alwayss?” he countered, making a chuffing noise in the back of his throat that was probably the serpentine equivalent of laughter. </p>
<p>“Just like always, love,” Aziraphale agreed placidly, even though he couldn’t recall Crowley having bitten him before. Well, not unless one counted the times he’d been expressing his displeasure at having his mouth covered with the angel’s hand to keep him from saying anything too foolish or dangerous.  </p>
<p>“What were you up to in here before I came?” Crowley asked, lifting his head and peering curiously around the kitchen as Aziraphale brewed his tea.</p>
<p>“Oh, I was going to bake some apple tarts,” he explained, coloring a bit at the mess he’d left on his counters. “I thought we could enjoy them when the weather improved, but I didn’t even get to finish preparing the pastry before you arrived.” He waved his hand dismissively at the mess, nodding in approval as it obediently vanished. </p>
<p>“You were baking for <em> me</em>, angel?” Crowley asked, resettling his weight more firmly against the back of Aziraphale’s neck.</p>
<p>“Well, I thought I might. Another time, though, when the weather improves. I can’t imagine you’d enjoy pastries very much in your present form, anyway. I’m not sure I want to know what you prefer like this,” he admitted.  </p>
<p>“You don’t,” Crowley assured him, twisting his head around and tucking it under the collar of Aziraphale’s dressing gown. “Later, angel. We can try to bake together?”</p>
<p>“You once said that you wouldn’t subject your own worst enemy to your attempts at cooking,” Aziraphale pointed out, laughing and checking his tea. Removing the strainer and setting it aside, he picked up the cup and walked from the kitchen into the living room, savoring the warm, pleasant weight against his shoulders. </p>
<p>“I could do fine, with the right teassher.” </p>
<p>“Well, in that case, it’s a date,” he answered happily, blowing on his tea and settling down onto the sofa. “Sure you don’t care for a sip?” </p>
<p>Crowley shook his head without actually removing it from where it was tucked under Aziraphale’s robe, and the angel laughed softly at that. </p>
<p>“Still snug and cozy?” </p>
<p>“With you? Alwaysss. Why do you think I keep you around?” </p>
<p>“I love you, too, dearest,” the angel chuckled, kissing the top of his head, then glancing around the living room. “Now, where did I put my book?”</p>
<p>Crowley lifted his head and looked around for a moment, then made a noncommittal noise and settled down comfortably again. “Whisssh one? There are alwaysss sso many lying around.” </p>
<p>“Some help you are,” he mock-grumbled, cupping his tea in both hands and leaning over the mug to enjoy the warm steam as it washed over his face. “Here, you’ll enjoy the warmth,” he offered, angling the cup towards Crowley’s head.</p>
<p>He grumbled for a moment, then lifted his head and eased it forward into  the steam. “Oh, angeeeeel…” he groaned, deep in the back of his throat. </p>
<p>“You know, my dear, the more time I spend with you in this form, the more I wonder about your vocal equipment. All these sounds you should be completely incapable of making…” </p>
<p>“Don’t overthink it,” he advised, tipping his head to the left, then to the right in the cloud of steam. “Nothing natural about it. Or about me.”  </p>
<p>“Well, no, I suppose not,” Aziraphale conceded with a chuckle. “It’s still a bit odd.” </p>
<p>“Odder than everything elssse about me?” </p>
<p>“Well, not <em> everything </em> about you, my dear. You do contain a delightfully wide range of idiosyncrasies, after all.” </p>
<p>Crowley chuffed softly at that, finally withdrawing his head from the steam and tucking it under Aziraphale’s dressing gown again. “And you love that about me. Thanksss for the tea.” </p>
<p>“You’re very welcome. We’ll have a hot shower before bed, if you like. Nice and steamy.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, angel, offering me ssome ssssteamy fun in the sshower?” Crowley teased, nuzzling Aziraphale’s throat and gently nipping at his collarbone. </p>
<p>“Oh, stop that, you,” Aziraphale protested, chuckling and squirming. “It tickles!”</p>
<p>“But I love making you ssquirm, angel.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, I can see you’re feeling your old self again,” he answered with a rueful smile, gently petting his soft scales. “Your skin is so much warmer now, my love.” </p>
<p>“Weather like thisss, I need to abssorb a lot more warmth than ussual. Nothing like a warm body for that.”</p>
<p>“You should have told me so before, foolish serpent. I would have been at your flat on the first day, if I’d known my company could help. I thought you just wanted to rest,” Aziraphale told him, climbing to his feet. </p>
<p>“Sss’all I needed.”</p>
<p>“Well, what we need and what we would most like are two very different matters, Crowley. You know that perfectly well.” Smirking, he added, “This is all a bit medieval, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Medieval?” Crowley repeated blankly. “What?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you know, like an old religious cautionary tale. The object of your fantasy appearing to you, wrapping around you, and trying to sap all your warmth.”  </p>
<p>“Oh, isss it only your <em> warmth </em>I’m ss’ppossss to be ssapping, angel?” </p>
<p>“Terrible creature,” Aziraphale laughed, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Your terrible creassssure…”</p>
<p>“Yes, quite. Mine. I’d not have you be anyone else’s, my dear,” he answered, bending to kiss that warm head again. “Mind if we head downstairs for a bit? I think I must have left my book down there before you arrived.”</p>
<p>“Go on, then. Will we bake tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“If you like, Crowley, yes. Anything you want,” Aziraphale assured him, padding downstairs and peering up at the sun straining down through the dome. “Oh, did we sleep all night? Is it morning already?”</p>
<p>“Afternoon, I think. Feelss like it, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Oh, gracious,” he answered, hurrying across the store and picking up the cellular phone that had been charging on his desk, checking the time. They’d been asleep for considerably more than twelve hours and, tutting at himself for having lost so much time, he checked the weather. “It’s a bit warmer today,” he noted to Crowley, tucking the phone into his pocket. “But you stay close for now anyway. I want you as comfortable as possible, my love.” </p>
<p>Crowley made a quiet noise of agreement, and wrapped himself more firmly around Azirapahle’s neck. It was strangely like wearing a scarf: a firm, heavy, slowly-breathing scarf. An all-in-one combination of cuddling with your love and bundling up on a cold day. All that was missing was cocoa and a book. But he’d slept far too long to feel comfortable spending any more time sitting and doing nothing, so he walked over to a box of new arrivals, kneeling and beginning to unpack and sort the volumes. Normally, he would have quite enjoyed the smell of ‘new’ old books, but not today. Today, he could barely pick it out.</p>
<p>The aroma of woodsmoke was heavy in his nostrils with Crowley wrapped around his neck like this, and there was something new as well: something rich, loamy, and a little sweet. Crowley’s natural snake-scent, no doubt. It was quite different from his usual one, despite the smokey note, but no less lovely, and Aziraphale let out a soft hum of pleasure as he studied it. One more new facet of his friend to commit to memory.</p>
<p>“Darling, might I ask a personal question?” he murmured as he considered whether one particular book should be counted as a history or a biography.</p>
<p>“Assk away, angel,” Crowley answered easily, tucking his nose under the collar of Aziraphale’s dressing gown again. </p>
<p>“You’re obviously very comfortable in this form. Why haven’t I seen you in it for any length or time before now?”</p>
<p>Wiggling his head from side to side in what might have been the snake equivalent of a shrug, or just one of Crowley’s usual random gestures, he answered, tone teasing, “Well, I can’t lounge around naked in front of jusss <em> anyone</em>.” </p>
<p>Aziraphale snorted and shook his head at yet another example of Crowley’s irreverence, setting the questionable book aside for now and reaching for another. And then, just in case it was more than his usual sarcasm, “If you don’t want to say, dear…”</p>
<p>Crowley’s only answer to that was a soft sigh, and a slight tightening of his coils around the angel’s arm and neck. That, perhaps, should have been alarming, but Aziraphale knew better than to take it as any sort of threat. Crowley was uncomfortable, obviously, and still not feeling entirely himself. Even if he’d wanted to explain, he might not have been <em> able </em>to just yet. Which was fine; Crowley had always been willing to go slow for him, so Aziraphale could go slow for Crowley now.</p>
<p>Besides, that extra bit of pressure felt wonderful, cozy and snug. And, if it felt a bit possessive as well, that was perfectly fine. After all, they belonged to each other now, and there was no longer any harm in acknowledging the fact. In fact, it felt good to acknowledge it, liberating and finally, <em> finally </em>honest.</p>
<p>“I love you,” he whispered, taking a moment to revel in Crowley’s weight, his presence, and his raw, pure affection. </p>
<p>“I know you can’t tell, but I love you, too,” the serpent teased. </p>
<p>“Oh, hush, you,” Aziraphale laughed, shaking his head and burying himself in the business of sorting his books again. </p>
<p>Feeling almost back to his usual temperature, Crowley rested around the angel’s shoulders in easy silence, occasionally mumbling or hissing in his sleep. Aziraphale’s cheeks were starting to ache from smiling for so long without a break, but he couldn’t help himself. It was just so wonderfully cozy and domestic, being close to Crowley like this. And, of course, a sleeping snake interfered with one’s work far less than a bored, mischievous demon could on even his mildest days. He fell into an easy rhythm as he worked, losing track of time and his surroundings as he was lulled by Crowley’s scent, the feel of the books in his hands, and the steady expansion and contraction of Crowley’s coils around him as he slumbered. When the bell over the door chimed, he jumped a little, sending piled books toppling and earning an annoyed grunt from Crowley. </p>
<p>“Oh, sorry, Mr. Fell!” a familiar voice apologized as its young owner hurried over. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he explained, reaching out to help, then freezing and staring down at him in surprised confusion. </p>
<p>Then again, it was no wonder he seemed surprised. It went without saying that Aziraphale was not in the habit of letting even his regular customers see him in nothing but pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown. </p>
<p>“Oh, Andre. I… must have forgotten to lock the door,” he greeted the young man with a sheepish smile, clearing his throat and securing the gown more firmly around his body, trying to ignore the way the lad continued staring. “I must have forgotten to lock the door last night!”</p>
<p>Well, not quite. Aziraphale <em> always </em> locked up; half-conscious and dazed as he’d been, Crowley must have neglected to relock the door when he’d let himself in. Hauling himself to his feet, he smiled apologetically at the young man.</p>
<p>“I, uh…” He trailed off, frowning and staring again for a moment, then shaking himself and shifting the backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder as he offered, “I can go, if you’re closed. It’s just that I have a paper due soon and my flatmate has his girl over…”</p>
<p>“Oh, gracious, well you can hardly study in that sort of environment!” Aziraphale tutted, shaking his head and gesturing to Andre’s favorite armchair. Like all customers who made a habit of sitting quietly and seldom buying anything, this one was always welcome in the bookshop. “You make yourself at home. I’ll just nip upstairs and get changed. And, if you don’t mind, I would quite appreciate if you would not mention this to anyone. I mean, I wouldn’t want people thinking that I’m the sort to wander around in a state of near-undress in the middle of the day!” he laughed, shaking his head.</p>
<p>Maybe it was the sound of laughter, or of a strange voice, or just all the sudden noise and movement. Whatever it was, a certain formerly-sleeping snake woke with a start, hissing loudly as he shot out from under the dressing-gown which must have been completely concealing his presence until now. He seemed longer, and much heavier, as he reared up, hissing and putting almost a metre of his thickly-muscled body on display, along with far too many teeth. </p>
<p>“Mr. Fell!” Andre gasped, staggering back with wide eyes. “Oh, I think it’s angry! Is it dangerous? Don’t--don’t move, sir! I--I’ll call, uh, <em> someone?</em>”</p>
<p>“No! No, Andre, calm down!” Aziraphale soothed, forcefully projecting calm at the human as he ordered Crowley, “You stop that <em> at once</em>, darling! Behave yourself!”</p>
<p>Crowley made a disgruntled noise at that, coils tightening almost painfully around Aziraphale’s arm and throat for a moment before they loosened. He settled a bit, or at least closed his mouth, but he kept his body mostly extended and glared daggers at the stunned young man. </p>
<p>“I, uh…” Andre swallowed hard, clearing his throat and taking a few slow steps backwards, eyes never leaving Crowley. “I--is that thing <em> safe</em>?” he whispered.</p>
<p>Crowley hissed again and Aziraphale gave his nose a gentle thump. “That’s quite enough from you!” Sighing and shooting the young man an apologetic look, he soothed, “Don’t mind him. His hiss is much worse than his bite.”</p>
<p>Crowley gave Aziraphale’s arm a rough squeeze, which the angel ignored, and Andre smiled weakly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to overreact, Mr. Fell. Just, you know, it’s not every day you see a guy with a giant boa constrictor wrapped around his throat…”</p>
<p>“He’s not <em> that </em> big, Andre, and he’s certainly not scary.” Ignoring Crowley’s disgruntled noise, he added, “I assure you, he’s entirely harmless. And he’s always done a wonderful job at keeping rodents away from my books.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s head shot up at that and he stared at Aziraphale with what was probably surprise, as if he hadn’t realized that the angel knew that little tidbit.</p>
<p>“Settle down, love,” he soothed, gently taking Crowley’s head between two fingers and tucking it back under the collar of his dressing gown before smiling at Andre again.</p>
<p>“You, uh… I couldn’t figure out why your dressing gown was so… <em> lumpy </em>. I didn’t realize you… you know, had a pet snake.” </p>
<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t call him my <em> pet</em>, Andre. He’s more like an old friend.”</p>
<p>Crowley didn’t vocalize this time, but Aziraphale could feel a soft rumbling through the scaly skin. It might have been a warning, or a laugh, or even the anguine equivalent of a purr.  </p>
<p>“And he’s… always been here in the shop?” the young man asked, looking like he didn’t know how to process that information. </p>
<p>“Always? Certainly not! I don’t force him to stay down here when he’d rather be elsewhere. He comes and goes.” And, because that assertion made Andre frown, Aziraphale added, “I have a small flat upstairs.”</p>
<p>“Oh, okay,” he answered, as if that explained everything. </p>
<p>No need to further confuse the human by mentioning that, while Aziraphale had a flat above the shop, the snake around his shoulders had one in Mayfair. </p>
<p>“I’ll just run up and make myself presentable,” Aziraphale told him, heading for the staircase. “Shall I leave this menace in the flat?” he offered, smiling fondly down at Crowley and receiving a dirty look in return. </p>
<p>“Uh… I’m not telling your pet anaconda what to do. Not really sure you should, either,” Andre informed him, smiling uneasily.</p>
<p>“You’re right. We’ll see what he decides, then. I can seldom tell him what to do, either. Can I, my love?” </p>
<p>Crowley gave him another dirty look, then tucked his head under the dressing gown again as Aziraphale ascended the stairs. </p>
<p>“If that kid callss me your pet one more time…” he hissed as they entered the bedroom.</p>
<p>“Oh, stop fussing and get down,” Aziraphale told him, sliding off his dressing gown and gently urging Crowley to uncoil himself. “You didn’t need to scare the poor boy, you know.”</p>
<p>“I got ssstartled,” he grumbled, slithered down onto the bed and sliding under the crumpled blankets. “Ssnake thing. I needed to protect you. He felt like a threat, sss’prissing me like that.” </p>
<p>“Oh. Oh, Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed, sitting on the edge of the mattress and extending his hand. “Come out, darling,” he coaxed, nodding encouragingly when Crowley’s head reappeared. “That’s right,” he murmured, gently caressing Crowley’s face and smiling as the serpent not only leaned into the touch but actually wrapped himself around Aziraphale’s wrist a few times. “Thank you for trying to protect me, but…”</p>
<p>“Yeah, ssorry about that,” Crowley answered, sounding sheepish. “Thing iss… my brain right now… ‘ss’not a human one. Built all… <em> different </em> ! Uh… different prioritiesss. Inssstinctsss I can’t control. ‘Sss why I could never be like thissss around you before. Everything got all muddled up insside. With you, like that, want turned into <em> need</em>, and need became… Heaven, angel, it was almosss hunger ss’metimesss, like I’d die if I couldn’t be with you. Couldn’t let you ssee me like that, not before. I couldn’t even <em> be </em> like that around you.”</p>
<p>“No,” he agreed, nodding and smiling gently. “I wouldn’t have understood before. How could I? Now, can you tell me what happened down there?”</p>
<p>“I woke up and we weren’t alone and I panicked. Couldn’t control it. Sssorry,” he repeated, sounding genuinely contrite, which would never do.</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault that your instincts sometimes carry you away, my love. We all have those moments. We’ll just make sure we’re actually safe from intrusion whenever we do this from now on,” he soothed, bending and gently kissing the top of Crowley’s head. Smiling and keeping his face close, he whispered, “And I promise you that we <em> will </em>do it again, whenever you like.”</p>
<p>“I love you, angel.”</p>
<p>“I should hope so,” he laughed, kissing Crowley again, then climbing to his feet and, after a moment’s consideration, miracling his favorite clothes on with a snap. Studying himself in the mirror, he asked, “Will you come back down with me?”</p>
<p>“Nah. I think your human friend would drop dead of terror.”</p>
<p>“It might not hurt for you to come and be a bit friendlier to him.” </p>
<p>Crowley reared back, tilting his head towards the ceiling and chuffing loudly in obvious amusement.</p>
<p>“Oh, Lord,” Aziraphale sighed, shaking his head. “What mischief are you planning now, you impossible creature?”</p>
<p>“The besst kind,” the serpent assured him, quickly pulling himself back under the covers. The blanket rippled and bulged as the creature under it changed and grew to human size, then Crowley poked his head out with a playful grin. “Think about it, angel,” he advised. “No one’sss going to even <em> think </em> about trying to give you trouble or rob your sssst--sst--store once rumors of your giant guardian snake spread through Soho,” he pointed out, working his mouth into strange shapes when he was done speaking, presumably trying to reaccustom himself to the anatomy. </p>
<p>“Well, there is that. Your snake form can certainly be a bit daunting to the uninitiated.” </p>
<p>“And you let me wrap myself around your neck,” he noted, sitting up and lifting a hand to Aziraphale’s throat. For a moment, his smile was fond and lazy, then his eyes widened and he tensed. “Oh, Heaven above! Sorry, I think I might have squeezed too hard for a second when I woke up down in the shop.” </p>
<p>Aziraphale glanced into the mirror again, aware that there were, indeed, some minor welts marring the flesh under Crowley’s fingers. “It’s all right, love. It doesn’t hurt.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but it looks kinda… wrong, Aziraphale,” he pointed out. “Here, let’s get rid of those before anyone who doesn’t know you own a ‘pet’ snake can decide you’re into being strangled for funsies.” </p>
<p>Aziraphale choked a little at his words, staring with wide eyes for a moment before the skin and muscle under Crowley’s fingers started to grow warm and a bit tingly. After that, he couldn’t have focused on Crowley’s rather inappropriate teasing if he’d tried. Head falling back and eyelids fluttering, he sighed with pleasure at the spreading heat and relief of an ache he hadn’t even been aware he’d been experiencing. </p>
<p>“Mmm, much better, my dear. Thank you so very much,” he whispered, catching hold of Crowley’s hand, and lifting it so he could press a few chaste kisses to the fingertips and knuckles. “You’re warm again,” he noted, smiling widening. </p>
<p>“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Crowley noted, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “I… I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. My snake form, I mean. I, it… it’s not just that I have trouble with my inhibitions like that,” he admitted. “I mean, I obviously <em> do </em> , but I honestly wasn’t sure how you’d feel about the reminder of what I am. What I <em> was</em>,” he amended. Smiling tenderly and nuzzling the angel’s face, he added, “I probably don’t have to explain. We both know a thing or two about the fear of rejection.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale smiled at that, pleased. There was a pang in his chest as he considered Crowley’s fear of being pushed away, and his own contributions to that, but it was less painful and immediate than it had been even a few weeks ago. They were healing, putting their past behind them in a very real way, and with very real and obvious results. </p>
<p>“I love you, and I promise that I’ll never reject you again, Crowley. Not <em> any </em>part of you,” he whispered, not even feeling like he needed to cajole his lover on this particular topic, not any more. “Not your external form, not your mad instincts, not your horrible sense of humor, not even the way you abuse your poor houseplants. There’s no part of you that I don’t love, and no part that I don’t want to get to know better. And don’t you ever forget it.”</p>
<p>“How could I, angel?” he answered, beaming and flopping down onto his back. </p>
<p>“Dear Lord! Surely you’re not tired again?”</p>
<p>“I’m not tired, and don’t call me Shirley.” </p>
<p>“What?” Aziraphale asked, frowning down at him.</p>
<p>“Never mind,” he answered, squeezing the angel’s hand. “You should probably get back downstairs. Can’t leave anyone unsupervised around your books for too long.”</p>
<p>“No, I suppose not,” he allowed, a bit reluctantly. “Are you going to join me downstairs, or rest some more?”</p>
<p>“Not tired,” Crowley reminded him. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, angel.”</p>
<p>“In your <em> human </em> form, if you do, Crowley. I mean it. I won’t have you slithering around, hissing savagely and scaring my clientele.”</p>
<p>“I suppose, if I were to scare your customers, you’d want to pick which ones?”</p>
<p>“You know me too well, my love,” Aziraphale chuckled, tangling his fingers through Crowley’s fiery curls. “The only individuals you’re allowed to scare are the ones who threaten my books in some way.”</p>
<p>He smiled at that for a moment, then frowned thoughtfully. “You mentioned that I keep rats away. You knew? This whole time?”</p>
<p>“Only for the last few decades, my dear,” he admitted, smiling. “In the sixties, when you were in Asia, I got bored and had a few conversations with a squirrel who lived in St James’s Park. She mentioned that London’s rodent population believes that the god of death resides in Soho, and that they have all sorts of interesting legends revolving around the area. It didn’t take many details for me to connect the dots.” Biting his lip, he added, “And it’s just occurred to me that I never did thank you for warning them off like that.”</p>
<p>“Nyehhh, didn’t expect you to. Not having to listen to you whining about rat crap and chewed spines was all the thanks I needed,” Crowley assured him, smirking. “Besides, it got me deified. Good night’s work, all things considered.” </p>
<p>“Only you would consider being declared Death, Destroyer of Rats to signal a good night’s work,” Aziraphale snorted, smiling fondly down at his ridiculous lover for a long, peaceful moment. “This is glorious, Crowley,” he whispered, feeling pleasantly awed, as he always did when he reflected on their new life together. </p>
<p>“It has its moments,” he agreed, giving the angel a lazy smile. “You go down. I’ll get dressed and be there in a few minutes.” </p>
<p>“All right, my love,” he agreed, beaming. “Just try to be nice to my customer, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“Angel, ‘customer’ implies that he was actually allowed to buy something at some point, and is possibly even expected to do so again in the future.”</p>
<p>“Oh, be quiet, you dreadful serpent,” Aziraphale laughed, shaking his head and hurrying back down to the shop. </p>
<p>The young human was curled up in his favorite armchair when the angel returned, feet tucked under his body as he stared thoughtfully down at the screen of his tablet. </p>
<p>“Sorry about that, Andre,” he apologized. “For everything. I was just having a quiet day in, sorting some books,” he explained, gesturing to the piles of the floor. “I really had no idea that the door was unlocked, or obviously I would have dressed before coming downstairs. And I certainly wouldn’t have exposed <em> anyone </em> to that ridiculous creature without warning.”</p>
<p>“I… it seems a bit… unsafe.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he’s not unsafe at all,” Crowley crooned, practically sashaying down the stairs. </p>
<p>In black silk pyjamas, as if he was in his own flat. Black silk pyjamas, and his <em> sunglasses</em>. Because of course he was wearing sunglasses. Charitably, he might still have been too tired to perform the bit of psychic trickery that would prevent Andre from noticing his eyes, but who was to say? It was Crowley. He probably thought that wearing pyjamas and sunglasses together counted as stylish. </p>
<p>“He’s a bit protective, mind you,” Crowley continued, smiling sweetly, “but not dangerous to anyone, not as long as they don’t mistreat my angel.”</p>
<p>Oh, good Lord! Aziraphale rolled his eyes, giving Crowley a Look.</p>
<p>Andre stared at him with wide eyes, biting his lip and clearing his throat a few times before awkwardly murmuring, “Oh, I… I didn’t realize… So he belongs to you? The snake?” </p>
<p>“Well, I suspect, if you asked him, he’d tell you he didn’t <em> belong </em> to anyone,” Crowley laughed, grinning. “The opposite, really. He actually claims ownership over at least one person in this room,” he added with a leer, crossing the room towards them with more swaying of the hips than was probably necessary even for him. </p>
<p>“He… did seem protective of your… of Mr. Fell,” Andre agreed, watching as Crowley slid behind Aziraphale and looped his arms around the angel’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Oh, he adores our Mr. Fell even more than <em> I </em> do, and that’s saying a lot.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, wishing that Crowley would stop making his voice sound so… well, so much like the voice he usually saved for their time alone together. When he composed himself a bit and opened his eyes again, Andre was watching them with a faint smile.</p>
<p>“I think I’ve seen you around before,” he noted to Crowley. “I didn’t realize the two of you were involved.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t have. It’s a pretty recent thing. But opposites attract,” Crowley pointed out, laughing and turning his head to kiss Aziraphale’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, angel?” </p>
<p>“Crowley can be <em> completely </em> insufferable,” Aziraphale told Andre, unable to contain his smile, “but I can’t imagine life without him. We bring out the best in each other.” </p>
<p>“Wait, we <em> do</em>?” Crowley asked with a theatrical gasp. “You mean, all this time I’ve been trying to bring out the worst in you and I’ve actually been bringing out your best instead? Eurg, <em> years </em> of wasted effort!” he groaned, throwing up his hands. </p>
<p>Aziraphale chuckled at his lover’s theatrics, leaning back against him with a soft sigh of pleasure. “Complete opposites, as you can see,” he told the grinning human. </p>
<p>“Yes, I can see,” Andre agreed, and Aziraphale wanted to hug the young man for how pleased he seemed with their luck and happiness. “Just be careful, Mr. Fell. I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is almost as feisty as your boa constrictor.” </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s not a constrictor,” Crowley assured him blithely, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist again and squeezing. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s big and strong enough to squeeze the life out of his prey, if he wanted, but he prefers using his venom. Quicker, and not as messy.” </p>
<p>Poor Andre went pale at that, eyes widening. “Your snake is… poisonous?”</p>
<p>“Venomous: using a bite or sting to deliver a toxin,” Crowley corrected him, and Aziraphale could practically hear the dreadful tease smirking as he pedantically continued, “A poisonous animal is one with toxic <em> flesh</em>. Two completely different things, young man.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale dug his elbow into Crowley’s ribs, telling the horrified-looking human, “Ignore the exaggerations of my ridiculous lover. That snake is entirely harmless.” </p>
<p>“Unless anyone threatens our angel,” Crowley amended cheerfully. “He’s not aggressive, but he gets pretty protective. You may have noticed. I understand he acted up a bit when you first came inside.” </p>
<p>“Was he trying to <em> protect </em> you? And here I thought he was actually vicious. Aww, Mr. Fell, that’s so sweet! Little Snekey-Snek loves you as much as his daddy does!” </p>
<p>Aziraphale bit his lip at that, and Crowley pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s shoulder, stifling a laugh. Andre was a dear young man who’d always seemed entirely disinterested in romance as a concept, but he was obviously a big believer in love’s more emotional manifestations. </p>
<p>“I’m quite blessed to be so loved, Andre,” he agreed, smiling warmly. “Would you like some cocoa, dear boy? Perfect weather for it.”</p>
<p>Beaming and nodding, he answered, “Thanks! Cocoa would be great, Mr. Fell.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale squirmed free of Crowley’s grasp and headed into the back room. When he returned, with a throw blanket draped over one arm and a tray of cocoa in his hands, Crowley was lecturing a clearly-fascinated Andre with exaggerated hand-gestures and real animation in his tone. It was a relief, and a pleasure, to see Crowley acting like his usual bundle of nervous energy.</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s all well and good to say ‘free will’ this and ‘responsibility for your own actions’ that, but the argument completely breaks down the second you try to apply it in the real world, doesn’t it? I mean, look at Lord Bootikins!” he directed, hands flapping so wildly that he nearly sent his own sunglasses flying.</p>
<p>Andre stared in confusion, and Aziraphale explained as he passed the young human a mug of cocoa, “It’s what he calls the Emperor Caligula.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Andre answered, nodding in obvious bemusement before returning his attention to Crowley. “Go on?”</p>
<p>“Well, I mean, it’s easy to say he was a tyrant or evil or crazy, and it’s not wrong, but <em> context</em>! Is it his fault that he was born into a family where literally everyone was trying to kill everyone else? Who <em> wouldn’t </em> have picked up some questionable habits? Sure, he did some terrible things, but is it his fault that he was born into that, then raised at Capri by that paedo misanthrope Tiberius? Or that he watched Tiberius kill almost every surviving adult member of his family and realized that the only way he was going to survive was to adapt? Like, I’m not saying he doesn’t <em> belong </em> in Hell -- I mean, I wouldn’t wish Heaven on my worst enemies, let alone that poor, sick bastard -- but at what point do you start or stop applying direct blame and acknowledge that, in a different environment, he probably wouldn’t have been any more depraved than the rest of us?” Crowley demanded of Andre.</p>
<p>Before Aziraphale could chide Crowley, or apologize to Andre, the young human cleared his throat and muttered, “Shit, I’m going to have to rewrite the entire paper, aren’t I?”</p>
<p>“Well, you don’t <em> have </em> to,” Crowley drawled, in a voice that could have been teasing Andre that he obviously did need to rewrite his paper, or could have been coaxing him into taking the lazy way out. “Just something to think about.”</p>
<p>“Ignore Crowley,” Aziraphale told Andre, giving Crowley a glare that was only half-playful. “He’d try to convince you that black was white if he got bored enough and didn’t have anything better to do. He loves playing demon-on-the-shoulder.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, black is white?” Crowley asked, grinning eagerly. “I’m really good at this one! Okay, Andre, so you know how light exists on a visible spectrum and then, on either side of <em> that</em>--”</p>
<p>“No!” Aziraphale interjected, leaning over and smacking Crowley on the knuckles. “You’re not doing that again, not right now,” he directed, pushing a mug of heavily-spiked cocoa into Crowley’s hands. </p>
<p>It wasn’t that he minded these sorts of theoreticals and speculations; he actually quite enjoyed them when it was just the two of them. But he also vividly recalled having seen Crowley reduce Ibn al-Haytham and, centuries later, Isaac Newton to tears with his utterly nonsensical yet strangely compelling meanderings on the nature of color. </p>
<p>“Buzz-kill,” Crowley grumbled without even trying to hide his grin.</p>
<p>“Hush,” Aziraphale directed, shoving the blanket at him before turning his attention back to the grinning Andre. “Don’t mind Crowley, dear boy.”</p>
<p>“Mind him? He’s amazing. No one thought you’d <em> ever </em> meet anyone capable of really keeping you on your toes!” Andre laughed. “This is great.”</p>
<p>Crowley laughed triumphantly at that, smirking up at Aziraphale as he smoothed the blanket over his legs. “See angel? How many years of me telling you the exact same thing did it take for you to listen?” </p>
<p> “Far, <em> far </em> too many years,” Aziraphale conceded, chuckling and smiling warmly down at Crowley. “I’m unhealthily set in my ways most of the time. I’m just lucky that you’ve always been far too stubborn to give up on me.” </p>
<p>Smiling, Crowley gave Aziraphale’s hand a brief squeeze. “I take back what I said about us being opposites, angel. We’re not that different at all. I’d forgotten that we’re both obstinate bastards.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s words caused something warm to blossom in Aziraphale’s chest and spread until the edges of his awareness started to soften, blurring until everything else started to seem much, much less real or important than this simple moment with Crowley. Yes, there was a guest in the shop, but Andre had cocoa and his tablet; he could keep himself entertained for a few moments while Aziraphale basked in the connection he shared with his beautiful, maddening friend.</p>
<p>“We are both stubborn bastards, my love,” Aziraphale agreed quietly, sighing with pleasure. “In fact, I do believe that’s what makes us worth knowing…”</p>
<p>
  <b>THE END</b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed this, dear readers. Kindly remember that feedback is love.</p>
<p>Thanks again to filthy enabler <a href="link">morgaine2005</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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